


Slipstream

by dogmatix, norcumi



Series: A Supplemental Star to Steer By [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Aromantic, F/M, GFY, Goa'uld Jedi, Multi, aro!Fives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4607145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogmatix/pseuds/dogmatix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/norcumi/pseuds/norcumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anakin Skywalker is unlike any Jedi known. A few glimpses of the Hero with No Fear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Call of the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shmi Skywalker is determined to give her son the best life she can. Even if she has to move heaven and earth. Or at least travel from one planet to another.

It was finally night on Tatooine, and Shmi Skywalker was trying to take some time to herself. She was out on the dunes near the edge of Mos Espa, not too far from the spaceport. There’d been enough time, enough self-control, to make it that far before she had to sit down, let the stress and surprise take her legs out from under her.

All the pilots had said the same thing. Not enough credits. Never mind that she’d kept a close eye on matters over the last few months as she’d continued to scrimp and save every way she could.

Higher fuel prices.

Republic sanctions on slave planets like this.

Hutt control over the hyper lanes.

So sorry. Surely a 23% price hike wasn’t too bad?

She couldn’t afford the ticket to Naboo. She ran a shaking hand over her face, trying to scrub the worry away. It – it wasn’t desperate. She was free now. She could technically leave at any time. Or go back to working for Watto. She didn’t want to, but it was an option. The greatest danger in striking out alone would be getting caught by slavers again, being sent someplace else, but...it wasn’t too long ago that Watto had dropped an idle comment that she continued to look good for her age.

Even he would notice, in another five years, and he had a damnable time differentiating human ages.

# _It’s...it’s ok, Mom,_ # Ani ventured, quiet and trying hard to be reassuring. They’d been together long enough that though the sensation he projected was of a reassuring hug, she could feel the conflicted relief behind that. He’d kept his concerns that they wouldn’t be able to stay together to himself, as best he could, even as they both knew how much he hungered to see the stars, to _travel_. # _We can find the Jedi next time._ #

She smiled, more for him than for herself. # _You’re right, Ani. And who knows, in two or three years, we might have enough to go straight to Coruscant itself. Or at least the nearest Temple._ # She was wary of risking that much attention, though. Out here on the Rim, Jedi were not automatically respected, and Ani was still so _young_.

They only had two more days at most to leave if they wanted to get to Naboo before the Jedi left, and she didn’t like cutting it that close. Jedi only visited the independent little planet every five years, taking not even a week to make sure local affairs were in order. She wasn’t sure what else they did – it had to be more than that, surely? – but whatever their purpose, she had only a narrow window of opportunity, and the Jedi that covered the circuit including Christophsis had been and gone a year ago. It would be four more years before that became an option again.

A sudden burst of swearing cut through the normal, quieter sounds of the evening, accompanied by a rhythmic – frustrated – banging of metal on metal. It came from slightly further out into the desert, away from Mos Espa.

# _Huh_.# Ani had that feel, like a curious little head tilt.

# _What is it?_ #

# _I...don’t know why, but we should go check that out. I have a good feeling about it?_ # He sounded incredibly uncertain, shyly curious and eager. Shmi was already on her feet, because she well knew it was probably the Force. It was the Force that had brought the two of them together in the first place, and she was hardly about to discount any other meddling it did in her life.

They found a small shuttle there, a human in up to their waist in an open hatch. The swearing had settled into a deep-voiced stream of invective against incompetent engineers.

“Having some trouble?” Shmi called out.

A human man popped out of the hatch. Her breath caught as she recognized one of the Jedi Order’s clones, because surely this could not be pure chance. _The Force..._ The man looked to be a cranky type, middle aged with gray streaks to his shaggy dark hair, crow’s feet prominent around green eyes. Civilian gear, so perhaps not an actual part of the Order, but he was pretty clearly a pilot and this was almost a flightworthy shuttle. “Trouble?” he spat, giving her the stink eye. “Oh, this isn’t trouble, this is sheer fucking _incompetence_ , is what it is!” He smacked a hydrospanner against the hull, rattling off more invective around a lengthy list of fried and broken parts. “All because of one _fucking_ misaligned circuit!” he finished, banging the guilty panel.

She wasn’t about to point out that it was understandable, given the location, and she’d seen plenty of boards fried for less. Shmi was too busy calculating parts and timing in her head, weighing the advantages Anakin could provide if push came to shove. “I can help. But there’s a price.”

The man snorted, twirling his spanner restlessly. “Always is, in pits like this. What kinda price?”

“I can fix most, if not all, of the damage you have there. I have access to the tools.” Watto technically still owed her, and she’d be able to twist his arm for this much easier than she’d be able to squeeze her ‘borrowed’ credits out of him. “Everything you need replaced, I can get you with a discount. In return, once it’s fixed you take me to Naboo.”

“Naboo? What, for free?”

“No.” She made an offer a touch more than half of the cheapest fare she’d been quoted, then crossed her arms and waited, giving the man a level look.

“What, for that? Forget it. Who says we’re even going that direction?” He turned back to the hatch, his entire body language dismissing her out of hand.

Despite Anakin’s consternation, Shmi remained unmoved. “I work at Watto’s. I know for a fact that he has the parts you need. Tatooine doesn’t take kindly to Republic clones. The time and money you’d waste here trying to get your ship fixed is more than it would cost for the short detour and minimal fuel to get me to Naboo.”

He paused, giving her a dubious look. It wasn’t a yes, wasn’t a no.

“She’s right,” a similar, though feminine voice called out from behind Shmi. She turned to find another clone striding up to them, carrying a bundle of goods and towing more on a small hover-pallet. This one was a woman, her hair up in a complicated braid around her head. Her clothes were the same kind of well-worn, comfortable work clothes that the first clone was wearing, though cut in a more feminine fashion. “Watto’s probably is the only place that has what we need. Never seen a bigger hive of scraps and parts.”

The first clone grunted, bracing himself on the shuttle hull. “Didn’t think you’d be back for another twenty or so.”

“When the delicate tune of “’spanner meets hull and everyone loses” stopped wafting across the sand dunes, I hustled a little. Wanted to know if it’s fixed or we’re really screwed.” The woman tossed her bundle to the man, who caught it with ease. “We’re stocked up on basics, I checked most of the shops in the area, and she’s right. Watto’s is it for some of those parts. I think. Your handwriting is still almost unreadable.”

“My writing skills are fine – you’re just too used to print-outs,” he grumbled back, retreating up the ramp into the shuttle.

The woman kept looking at Shmi, then she nodded. “You can fix this?”

Shmi tried not to clench at her sleeves. She could. She _had_ to. “Yes.”

# _We got this,_ # Anakin reassured her.

The clone tapped her fingers against the sled, glancing up at the shuttle. “All right. Let’s see what you can do.”

Shmi spent a day and a half buried in the guts of the small ship. Anakin lent her speed and precision, along with the stamina to keep going with minimal rest. Early on the second day, the man – Pretty, of all the names – was helping her secure some of the heavier parts. She and Anakin could have done it on their own, but Pretty was willing to help and it drew less attention.

“Awfully dedicated,” he grunted, shoving the last bit into place. “Got a deadline to meet or something?”

“Or something,” she said, securing the bolts. “It’s a family matter.”

“Aah.” He nodded, and that seemed to settle his curiosity. He must have shared the information with his co-pilot, because when Ataru wandered by later to share some water, she also carefully, politely pried.

“So this family matter on Naboo.”

# _Uh oh._ #

# _I’ve got this, dear. Sometimes all you need to do is deflect._ # “I need to get to Naboo by the turn of the month.”

Ataru whistled. “We can make it, but only if we leave today. In a few hours, if we want any buffer.”

Shmi gave her a polite smile. “Then I should hurry, shouldn’t I.”

She got it done, and it was with the warm, satisfied glow of accomplishment that she slammed the side panel shut. She scampered up into the shuttle, nodding to Ataru in the galley as Shmi called out to the cockpit. “It’s all set. Wouldn’t hurt to run a quick diagnostics, but everything should be green.”

Pretty whooped, and Shmi could hear the enthusiastic sounds of the man punching up the recommended systems check. Ataru grinned at her. “Sounds like we’ll be ready to go soon as you are.”

She bit back a grin. A slave’s life didn’t allow for much, and as slave who had purchased her freedom, she’d made sure to keep her burdens light. “I’m ready.”

Ataru’s brows went up. “What about your luggage?”

The smile escaped, and Shmi shook her head. “Everything I need, I have with me.” Anakin sent a burst of affection, which she returned.

“Is the law after you, or the Hutts?”

She laughed. “No, neither. And I’d like to keep it that way, please.”

“Mysterious lady,” Ataru murmured, shaking her head and motioning Shmi towards the spare seat up in the cockpit.

* * *

# _Master? Do you feel something strange?_ #

Qui-Gon stilled as Tahl continued her impassioned rant about antique texts with one of the local Naberrie relatives. He’d lost track of which were family members who were involved in the actual business of governing under the current king, and which were relatives who’d finagled their way into the dinner party. Tahl had a much better time of it than he did, and she reveled in it. # _I had hoped that was simply an erroneous suspicion on my part,_ # he admitted, reaching out in the Force towards Obi-Wan.

# _I wish it were. The Force has been...very active over the last few hours, but I can’t seem to see anything beyond potential._ #

At Qui-Gon’s behest, Tahl gracefully ended the conversation, letting her victim beat a swift retreat. She turned to take a glass of something from a passing waiter, and her scan of the crowd was more to check on Obi-Wan and 17 than to search out potential conversation partners.

Qui-Gon’s padawan was standing at ease along the wall, with the rest of the small squad Qui-Gon merited visiting the local dignitaries. They were all in dress grays for the dinner, but they carried weapons and moved with the undisputed professionalism of the soldiers they were. That tended to make civilians...antsy, so the clones kept to themselves and made a quiet show of support near one of the smaller buffet tables. Obi-Wan was still only a few months knighted, which made him and 17 perfect for the undercover position as the head of the squad. It allowed them the opportunity to corroborate the information Qui-Gon and Tahl gathered, and allowed citizens uncomfortable with Jedi the opportunity to interact with a competent, less intimidating representative should they seek out Qui-Gon’s “second-in-command.”

Well. Nominally less intimidating. He did hope Obi-Wan was directing those encounters, rather than 17. # _Do you wish to investigate the matter?_ #

# _That might be best, yes._ # 17 met their gaze, giving a brusque nod before turning to stalk towards the back exit.

# _We really ought to get them more field assignments,_ # Tahl said to him. # _I do not think that man has ever met a being he hasn’t wanted to shoot at least once._ #

# _Well, fair’s fair. We’ve wanted to shoot him plenty of times ourselves,_ # Qui-Gon pointed out.

# _I doubt Obi-Wan would be very happy with us._ #

# _I’m less concerned with Obi-Wan,_ _and more with 17, if the shot turned out to be non-fatal_ _._ #

Tahl snickered into her glass, then turned back to the ever glamorous duty of mingling.

It was less “exceedingly late” and more “absurdly early” by the time the Naberrie household emptied of its guests and Qui-Gon and his guards were able to escape to their quarters. He had to admit, this was much more pleasant that what he’d heard of the last tour of the planet, when the government officials who had won the prestige of housing (and wining and dining) the visiting Jedi were off in the lake country in the middle of nowhere.

The hairs on the back of their neck prickled as Tahl walked into their private rooms. Obi-Wan sat in one of the delicate chairs, looking up with blue eyes from a dark-haired, shabbily dressed woman sitting across from him. Qui-Gon had never seen her before, but between the calm grace she projected, and the feel of a second mind along with hers, he knew a Jedi when he saw one.

“M’lady,” he declared, Tahl handing off control with a burst of quiet suspicion. “I don’t believe we’ve had the honor.” He bowed. “I am Qui-Gon Jinn, hosted in Tahl.”

She nodded back. “Shmi Skywalker. I – I had hoped to talk to you before you left the planet.”

Interesting. He glanced at Obi-Wan, sending out a swift pulse of inquiry.

# _She doesn’t seem to realize – or she’s not willing to acknowledge – that there’s two of us here. And the Force –!_ #

Qui-Gon nodded, both to the woman’s request and Obi-Wan’s statement. The Force was indeed active, swirling around the woman as if she were some great locus of power. He’d never felt the like before, and that was saying something, given that Yoda was his grand-master and had tutored Qui-Gon on several occasion. He knew well the feel of power, but this dwarfed anything he’d ever run across.

“What did you wish to speak of?” he asked, settling himself in the third chair around the table.

“I...used to be a slave,” she said, after a pause, perhaps to find words, or courage. “When I was younger, my master was a strange man. Human, I think, but...” She made a face. “I was sure of very little about him, even his name. He was ‘Master,’ and my responsibilities kept me from interacting with him much. Cleaning. Machinery maintenance. I still have no idea what even half of what I took care of did.” She took a deep breath. “Then one day, he did not appear to check over his – his experiments. This was not the first time. My duties hardly needed a close watch, and he was...not the type to waste time on letting a slave know his schedule.”

# _I’ve got a very strange feeling about this, Master._ # Qui-Gon returned Obi-Wan’s words with the impression of a nod, for his skin prickled with some kind of portent as well.

“After a week, I was sure something had happened to him. By half a week later, I decided I should try to find a way to leave. I – I finally went into areas that had been forbidden to me before.” The woman took another deep breath, and faced him, eye to eye. “In one of the rooms, I found a tank containing a Jedi. I didn’t realize what he was at first. He didn’t have any fins, and he was a pale, translucent white. I didn’t know they came in that color.”

# _A YOUNGLING?_ # Tahl sputtered. She was horrified, and just as concerned as Qui-Gon was. What the hells was going on?

Bless Obi-Wan, he kept his head, though from the emotional turmoil he had not previously managed to pry these details out of the woman. “They do, yes.”

Shmi gave him a faint smile. “All I knew was that there was some... Well, at the time I thought he was a strange kind of pet. I fed him, took the excuse to explore further and gather what I thought I would need to escape. We were in a habitat dome on a fairly hostile planet, and I wasn’t sure there was a vehicle available to leave. After a time, though, I realized whenever I was around the tank, I had feelings, emotions that weren’t my own. By the time I had repaired what I think was a spare shuttle, I was fairly certain he was a Jedi. I took him with me, and fled.”

# _She is not saying what else was there,_ # Qui-Gon said to Tahl. # _I wonder what she found that had not survived until her explorations._ #

# _I don’t like this at all. She feels honest, but – Who would do this, and WHY would they be doing it? We need dates,_ _we need to find out if a youngling went missing before or around that time._ #

# _Or if there were any incidents concerning strange human men,_ _yes._ # “That was quite brave of you.”

“It was as much necessity as bravery, Jedi Jinn.” As swiftly as she spoke, he could feel the spike of anxiety as she chose not to call him ‘Master.’ “And in the end, it was almost futile. There was enough fuel to get away, but little more than that. There were no valuable objects around that I could take with me, nor actual money. I managed to get us to Tatooine, but I could not afford the bribes necessary upon landing, and so I found myself a slave again in short order. This time, to the local Hutts.”

“And the Jedi?” Obi-Wan prompted, gentle and cautious as if he did not know she carried such with her.

“I hid him. I...host...him,” she admitted. “After a while, we found we could communicate better that way, and – ” The woman shook her head. “He was a child, alone in the world, knowing nothing other than the tank I found him in, and a great deal of pain.”

# _I want to call bullshit, but I’m even more scared of the alternative,_ # Tahl declared faintly. #‘ _Knowing nothing?’ What Jedi would do that to their child?_ #

# _I’m just as concerned that the mysteries run deeper._ # “You have raised him,” he half declared, half asked.

“Yes. Anakin. His name is Anakin Skywalker.” She finally sounded a bit defensive, concerned, as if this youngling taking on her name were somehow shameful.

Qui-Gon made sure to keep his voice level, almost coaxing. “I would greatly like to meet him.”

Shmi Skywalker’s eyes flicked between them for a moment. He could see her come to a decision, then she nodded. Instead of the youngling taking control, the way Qui-Gon expected, Shmi raised her hands and caught the small form emerging from her mouth.

His jaw nearly dropped. Youngling indeed! The fins were small, barely mature and still growing! The small Jedi was pitch black, with only the faintest shimmers of iridescence along his form. # _Tahl?_ #

His host did adore her histories and legends. Her shock was as great as his, if not more. # _You don’t come in that color. You just don’t. Albino, I’ve heard of, but – what the hells did we step into the middle of now, Jinn?_ #

Well she might ask. The swirl of potential didn’t lessen so much as it narrowed its focus, spiraling in on the small Jedi now perched on the table, body language shy and cautious. It was still the strongest Force presence Qui-Gon had ever felt, and rather than being reduced outside of the host, as he expected, it simply felt better contained.

# _Master, may I?_ #

Never before had Qui-Gon been quite so grateful for his student’s enthusiasm for wandering around outside his host. He made a gesture of assent, and 17 leaned forward. The small Jedi pulled back a little, looking ready to lunge for Lady Skywalker.

“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan said, with a gentle smile. “I won’t get too close. Would you like to know a secret?”

The youngling tilted his head warily, then let out a cautious chirrup. 17 couldn’t restrain himself from radiating exasperation – the man hated Obi-Wan’s walkabouts, much preferring to keep his Jedi inside and protected. He closely mimicked the gesture of reaching for his Jedi, and Shmi Skywalker went wide-eyed as Obi-Wan emerged. Despite 17’s sour expression, his hands were gentle and steady as he placed the young knight upon the table.

Anakin pulled back too, body going a bit stiff in caution. Since the youngling was only about three-quarters Obi-Wan’s size, and far leaner, it was understandable. # _Probably don’t feed slaves too well on Tatooine,_ # Tahl grumped. # _Not nearly enough nutrition to go around for both of them if she’s been hosting him this whole time._ # Qui-Gon sent a mental nod to her, still fascinated by this impossible little Jedi.

Obi-Wan coiled up a little, keeping his body low to present Not-A-Threat and Careful-Welcome. He politely broadcast respectful-curiosity and cheerful-greetings as he introduced himself in the squeaks and clicks of the Jedi native tongue that Qui-Gon always thought sounded much more graceful underwater.

Tahl never heard it without a mental giggle and the impression of a poke in his ribs.

Anakin shifted, coiling up a little more and broadcasting shy awkwardness without any constraints, followed by a clumsy attempt to send the same kind of greeting. The tentative squeak he made wasn’t language, instead seeming to be an attempt to mimic some of the sounds Obi-Wan had made.

Obi-Wan shot a swift look at Qui-Gon, fins fluffing a little in astonishment. Qui-Gon sent back agreement, then looked at Anakin. “I’m sorry, it seems we must be presuming. You don’t know the language?”

The youngling’s fins pulled close in a faint hunch of shame, then he gave a swift shake of the head.

“Ah, then we must seem quite rude. This is my student, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. He’s traveling incognito with me.”

Anakin’s body-language shifted a bit more, and he gave another cautious, wordless chirrup to Obi-Wan. Bless him, Obi-Wan dipped his head in a little bow and chirped back, keeping his voice soft.

# _We need to know what he DOES know._ # Tahl sounded grim, her thoughts tucked behind a privacy screen even as he could feel her mind working. Whatever she was considering, it wasn’t good. The fact that she wanted him to ask instead of inserting her presence was also suspect.

He did _not_ have a good feeling about this. “Well, we’d best not make that mistake again,” he said, keeping his tone light and gently droll. “What languages do you know?”

It was apparently enough for the youngling, who turned and headed back to Lady Skywalker. She picked him up, taking a moment to cradle him while meeting Qui-Gon’s eyes. “We know Basic and Huttese.”

Thank the Force she was busy letting Anakin back in. It meant she was unlikely to see Qui-Gon’s surprise, exacerbated by Tahl’s genuine shock. 17 already had Obi-Wan in hand, so even Qui-Gon could not see his reaction.

# _Little Force gods, Jinn. She was speaking LITERALLY._ #

# _What?_ #

# _She said he “knew nothing” – I think she means absolutely NOTHING._ #

Tahl took control before shock could drain their face white. Jedi genetic memory meant that any youngling knew most common languages and cultures, along with basic Republic history and any number of necessary life skills. Yes, one had to work to refine those memories into useful application, but the _information_ was there, as if one had lived it, had experienced it through the protective fog of time.

“Lady Skywalker.” Tahl leaned forward, the different voice and eyes making it clear it was no longer Qui-Gon speaking. “I’m afraid I have to be rude. Might I speak with Anakin?”

Shmi hesitated a moment, then her body-language changed just a little, though her eyes didn’t. There was a touch of defiance and caution in the way the Jedi were watched now. Or maybe it was just nerves – anxiety added a tight note to Anakin and Shmi’s Force-presence. “Yes?” The voice was breathy, stubborn, and young.

Tahl had a soft smile for him. “Did you inherit _any_ memories?”

He frowned. “Inherit? From Mom?” He hesitated, as if realizing a slip, then lifted his chin a little. “I call her that. She pretty much is, and we’re both okay with that.”

Tahl’s smile widened. “That’s lovely. But I meant genetic memory, from your progenitor. Languages, experiences, history – anything.”

The youngling gave them a suspicious look, then shook his head. “Nnno. That’s a thing? That Jedi do?”

“Yes, it is.”

The youngling frowned down at his hands, then looked up again, trying to put on a brave face. “Does...does that mean I can’t be a Jedi?”

# _Do it. We’ll deal with the fall out._ #

Not that Tahl needed Qui-Gon’s blessings. She met the youngling’s eyes. “You’re already a Jedi. If you’re asking about the Jedi Order, I’m as much a part of it as Qui-Gon is. 17 here is as well. If you wish to join, of course you can, and we’ll be happy to teach you as much as you’d like to learn.”

The boy wore his relief openly, shoulders slumping and a brilliant grin spreading across his face. “Oh, _wizard_. Yes, please!”

* * *

It was past dawn when Qui-Gon mentally called Obi-Wan back into his quarters. He hurried in, and 17 let out some impressive internal swearing when they saw Tahl and Qui-Gon’s gobsmacked expression. # _If they’re looking that much like someone smacked them upside the head, we’re in shit up to our necks or deeper!_ #

# _I know._ # “How bad is it?”

Qui-Gon shook his head, clearing the expression as he let something sheepish, fascinated, and wild-eyed show. “It’s not bad, so much as baffling.” Obi-Wan sat, raising a brow, and Qui-Gon ran a hand over his face. “The scans we sent to the Temple came back. Not only is Anakin the strongest Force-user on any records they could find, he’s a _queen_.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if the shock was more his, or 17’s, but either way their jaw nearly hit the floor.

Tahl saw the look and snorted. “Word got sent up the chain to Coruscant, so they’re checking any records in the Archives that even _looks_ like it might be relevant, but – I’ve never seen the like. He makes the Force _dance_ , _and_ he’s able to reproduce.”

“You gotta be fucking _kidding_ us,” 17 managed.

Obi-Wan managed a nod. “What he said, only politer.”

“What we’ve _all_ said, so far,” Tahl declared dryly.

Obi-Wan slumped back in his chair, understanding why they’d looked so stunned. An unknown Jedi youngling, out in the middle of nowhere, with no memories, and not even old enough to have their colour or to have grown into their fins. It was not unheard of for a youngling to go missing, though it was a very, very rare thing indeed. And if a young _queen_ had gone missing, the Order would be turning over every rock on every planet until the youngling was found. Jedi who could reproduce were rare and treasured, and they did not simply go _missing._

“We...had a thought,” Obi-Wan finally ventured. It was Tahl’s skeptical look that greeted him, and Obi-Wan shrugged. “Could he have been in stasis for a while? A young queen, stashed away in case of emergency?”

Tahl paled. “Like from any of the Jedi-Sith wars.” She ran her hands over her face, up into her hair. She held on for a moment, then let go. “And if he _is_ , then from which side? And does it matter, since I don’t think he could fake ignorance like that.” Tahl paused, then rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop giving me puppy eyes, Jinn, _someone_ has to ask the hard questions, no matter how sweet and nice he seems. Nothing about this adds up!”

Obi-Wan bit back a smirk, and 17 heaved a loud sigh in their head. # _Just ONCE I’d like to not have something follow him home from a mission._ #

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “I sensed no duplicity from him. Even if he _were_ Sith, originally, he’d be a little young to hide his true nature. He and Shmi have clear and genuine affection for each other, and I cannot imagine a Sith bothering.”

17 pulled a face. “If we can trust Shmi’s word. He’s not like any Jedi I’ve ever seen, and we don’t know what he could be doing to twist her all around.”

Qui-Gon let out a thoughtful hum, then Tahl frowned. “I think we can trust them both. Anakin seems to be physically the right age to match up to what she told us, and I sensed no duplicity from either of them. The only emotional distress she felt was when they thought he might not be a Jedi.”

Qui-Gon nodded. “Agreed. And you, Obi-Wan? Have you any other thoughts?”

Trust his master to sense he had more. “He seems...very eager,” he said, trying to bite back another grin. “When he’s not trying to hide.” The smile faded quickly enough. “I agree with 17 that he could be dangerous – he is very strong in the Force, and his lack of memories makes him...an unknown quantity. But if we treat him as an enemy, we might only create a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Qui-Gon smiled at him. “I say we give him a chance. Let the suspicions of Sith slide, and introduce him to the Order as he is.”

“We can’t sweep the whole ‘weird human master’ thing under the rug though. If someone out there was or _is_ experimenting with Jedi, we need to know,” 17 scowled.

Qui-Gon inclined his head. “The Council will be informed of that, yes. But I think we can keep Anakin out of most of the fallout from it.”

Obi-Wan gave a firm nod, and Tahl crossed her arms and leaned back. “We’re agreed, then?”

17 huffed, a sound not quite a laugh. “Yeah, fine. Little wriggler’s not so bad. Just don’t want to jump in blind.”

_Obi-Wan_ knew better, but he kept his amusement to himself as Qui-Gon gave them a too innocent, gentle smile. “Then would you two please keep an eye on him? Introduce him around, play tour guide?”

# _...one smirk out of you, Kenobi, just ONE and I am kicking your snaky ass._ # “Tch. Fine.”

# _I wouldn’t dream of it._ # Inside, Obi-Wan let himself grin. He rather liked the bold, strange little Jedi. The opportunity to make friends would be quite welcome. He had a good feeling about it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty is brought to you by enthusiastic encouragement of Flamethrower, and Ataru is brought to you by the inadvertent influence of [herecomesthespiderbutt](http://herecomesthespiderbutt.tumblr.com/).


	2. A Laughing Fellow-Rover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin didn’t mean to fall in love. It...just sort of happened.

# _WHOA._ #

Fives winced a little and glanced back, casual as he could. The pack of senatorial flunkies and political types were moving away from the landing pad, chattering away amongst themselves, and in their midst was a pretty, young human woman. The purple and green get-up she had on was flattering enough, and the golden wire construct she had keeping her hair up in a flat-ended cone highlighted a pretty face – though Fives thought the whole thing looked more than a little absurd.

Yet the way she moved caught his eye, as well as Anakin’s. Graceful, directed, and with the poise of a dancer – or fighter. The long-sleeved jacket allowed a freedom of movement that would accommodate strenuous activity, and there was a hint of lean muscle underneath it all.

He was also pretty sure she was carrying at least two pistols, and that hairdo could conceal any number of fun objects. Since it obviously had _weight_ to it, he was willing to wager she had at least one little surprise up there.

They could overhear her being called “Senator,” so double the surprise.

# _Feel the Force, you idiot,_ # Anakin snickered, his mental voice sounding more than a little distracted. He sounded more like an older teen now, though it had taken the twelve years since Fives had begun hosting Anakin for the young Jedi to ‘age’ that much.

By now, Fives was well skilled at internally rolling his eyes at Anakin while not letting a hint of it show. He reached out their senses, feeling with/through Anakin.

# _Oh. WOW._ # He blinked, dazzled by the feel of the Force swirling around her. It wasn’t just evidence of a strong personality; she had Force sensitivity, and she was letting it guide her steps and social interactions, leaving her at the center of activity.

Then the Force trilled with danger, risk and ill intent.

Fives was moving before he thought, darting forward. “DOWN!”

Most of the senators froze, nerf before a rancor.

The lady with the hair hit the deck, grabbing the Rodian next to her and yanking his feet out from under him. A blaster bolt went through the air where they had been standing, scorching the duracrete near them. Then Fives was there, Anakin in charge and lightsaber drawn. The next few bolts the Jedi reflected back, bouncing them away from the now screaming, swarming politicians.

The blaster fire from _behind_ them, heading towards the source of the attack, was a bit of a surprise. The no-longer prone Senator had a knack of firing where his lightsaber _wasn’t_ , and with him providing cover and her providing fire, the would-be-assassin stopped pretty damn quick.

Fives could never quite get his head around meeting former Queen, now Senator, Padmé Amidala when she shot the bounty hunter after her life.

* * *

Anakin didn’t mean to fall in love. It...just sort of happened. He didn’t say anything to Fives for the longest time, and it wasn’t like he felt comfortable talking to Obi-Wan about it. Neither of them really did “romantic” at all. He was pretty sure Fives didn’t even grasp the emotion, not that way.

That meant that falling for Padmé Amidala was...even more complicated than it should be. He’d noticed the fierce competence from the first assassination attempt. By the third, he’d gotten used to her cordial manner, the occasional playfulness that created bright moments amongst the all too serious assassination attempts. He possibly didn’t have the rank or experience to qualify for her protection detail, but he’d been trained by Obi-Wan Kenobi, who was one of the best.

Also, he and Fives had been in the right place at the right time. It was amazing what that could facilitate.

A months-long protection detail, however, meant that they spent a lot of time in close proximity. Anakin wasn’t surprised to find that he liked the Senator. They kept running into her afterwards, and she seemed to like them enough to send along the occasional invitation to a dinner thing when she needed another person. Padmé admitted that she wanted someone without a political axe to grind and who didn’t mind asking questions. It helped that Anakin could turn on the charm, when he wanted to. Fives enjoyed the food, too.

Anakin knew that the fact that they lingered afterward, pursuing conversations with Padmé, wasn’t exactly standard, but – what harm was there?

* * *

Life with Fives had always been a major change for Anakin, and the first time when they woke up to what Fives groggily called “morning wood,” Anakin had been amused and curious. Being hosted in Mom had not presented this exact problem. Yeah, she’d talked him through human female urges, but this felt a bit different.

Fives had been a bit flustered as he pointed out the two obvious options. Anakin’s candid recital of what Shmi had discussed with him had only made Fives blush harder and hide his head under his pillow, which obviously didn’t help at all since Anakin was inside Fives’ head. Anakin was a bit disgruntled that this hadn’t been covered in any of his classes, but maybe it was another of those things that usually got passed on through genetic memory?

The first time Anakin found himself suppressing that same bit of biology around Padmé, he’d managed to hide that fact from Fives, fake a telepathic summons from Obi-Wan, and break only a few speed limits on the way back to the Temple. One way or another he convinced Fives that everything was fine, but Obi-Wan was doing that _thing_ and it’d be fastest if Anakin went outside looking for him.

He headed straight for the creche instead.

Mom was off duty in her rooms, and more than a little surprised to see Anakin without Fives. She immediately offered him a hand, and it felt _good_ being back inside, that familiar feeling of her body and mind right _there_.

# _What’s wrong?_ #

# _I don’t know if I’m falling in love, or if it’s something weird because Fives feels arousal but I shouldn’t and – Padmé._ # He sent her a jumble of mental images, trying to convey things he really didn’t understand and wasn’t sure what to do with.

Mom’s swift # _oh dear_ # was probably not meant to be communicated, but that was ok. He’d learned a lot about hosts and politeness since they’d discussed the matter, and decided that the best way to get Mom the stability she wanted and Ani the active life he wanted was to change to a different host. Not that it hadn’t been difficult, but he loved Fives just as much as he adored Mom, and Fives never seemed to mind spending time hanging around talking to her. Not to mention that in Fives, he got to _hug_ Mom.

“Well,” Mom declared out loud, accidentally dragging his frantically wandering thoughts back on topic. # _That sounds like something we should figure out._ # She didn’t actually have any answers, but after a couple of hours of talking, he felt better able to tackle things.

The first, of course, had to be confessing to Fives about what had happened. Mom had insisted on it, and she _was_ right. As soon as Ani saw his host’s politely covered concern when he showed up, he had to admit it. Fives was _worried_.

The moment Ani was back inside his host, he sent a wave of apology, embarrassment, and affection out. # _Sorry. I had to go talk to Mom._ #

# _Is something wrong?_ # Fives sat down, not even trying for casual and instead ready to get up and go somewhere at a moment’s notice.

# _Not...exactly. Um. I...think I’m falling in love._ #

Fives blinked. # _What’s a queen do when that happens?_ #

# _No, not with another Jedi. Um. With Padmé._ #

Fives buried his face in his hands, caught between groaning and laughing.

* * *

They spent several months investigating. It might have gone faster, but there was a lot to read – Fives’ idea – and a lot to chew over – Anakin’s contribution. They weren’t always on Coruscant, and neither was Padmé. It was a genuine coincidence that they ended up on Naboo at the same time, both having to work to resolve a land dispute between a Gungan tribe and the Naboo city of Theed. It was after the first day of the negotiations, and Fives and Anakin ended up in their quarters. Ani flopped down in a delicate looking chair, groaning aloud and scrubbing his hands over his face. “It’s rude to read emotions, right?” he asked, then kept talking since they both knew it was rhetorical anyways. “‘Cause I’m trying to not read her emotions but I think she likes us too.”

# _To be fair, I like her._ #

# _Fiiiiives,_ # Ani whined. # _You like a lot of people. You want to have sex with half of them. This is different!_ #

He could feel Fives biting back a comment that was probably about not minding sex with Padmé, but he already _knew_ that, and that _still_ wasn’t the point. Fives got love, Fives got sex, but romance? The man had a disturbing fascination with holodramas about the stuff, but he never really felt it himself.

Anakin was pretty sure that _he_ did, though, so – # _What do we do?_ #

Fives took control and sighed, swiping his hands through his hair. “We could try _talking_ to her,” he said, for what felt like the billionth time.

# _But she’s a politician!_ #

# _You’re not looking to be hosted in her, you just want...whatever it is with relationship stuff that you want._ #

# _That’s the problem! I don’t KNOW what I want!_ #

# _Ani, it’s been months. Do we have any more answers now than we did when this started?_ # Fives was astoundingly gentle, given that he’d had to put up with all this for so long. Anakin sighed and sent the impression of a shoulder-slumping puppy-dog eyes.

# _...no,_ # he finally sent.

# _It’s in every ridiculous holo I’ve ever seen. People don’t talk, they do stupid things, and then there’s at least another hour of stupidity before they find out they like each other, or that they don’t and the best friend does. Talk to her, please?_ #

# _...tomorrow?_ #

* * *

Fives wasn’t sure if Ani had expected to be held to his proposal or not, but hell, they were good friends, not just Jedi and host, and if he had to help step up then he was happy to do so. It had started off as cute. Then it got a little weird. Then he’d started hoping Ani would just go and have a conversation and move past the ridiculous bits, but that had been at least a month ago. Probably longer.

“Padmé?” he called out, and she turned to give that smile to them. It left Anakin feeling all warm and fluttery and a bit flighty, while it made Fives feel good. Padmé _was_ a good friend, and he genuinely did like her a lot, but romance was Ani’s thing, not his.

“Did I forget something, Fives?” she asked, tone wry.

“Not that I saw. We were hoping we could have a talk with you?”

Her smile warmed a bit, a little more welcoming. “Of course.” She opened the door to the suite she’d been given, leading the way in. They ended up on opposite ends of a couch, within comfortable talking distance without being too much in each other’s space. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, but we’ve got a developing situation we needed to talk to you about.”

# _Developing situation? Really? THAT’S what you’re calling it?_ #

Fives ignored his Jedi as Padmé frowned. Then she surprised them both. “This is an unofficial talk, then? About...unofficial things?”

# _Oh shit she knows._ # Fives was very glad he was in control of the body, because otherwise they might have been going full Force-enhanced speed down the corridor.

“Right.”

Padmé nodded, folding her hands in her lap. Fives didn’t need a Jedi or the Force to tell him she was nervous. “Then I’d like to say something first that is perhaps a bit...embarrassing, not to mention much more forward than I usually am.”

He could practically feel Anakin curl up in a defensive little ball. “Yes?”

Padmé’s smile at him was gentle, and genuine. “Fives, I greatly enjoy your company, and I consider you a dear friend. I know hosts and outside parties sometimes form relationships beyond that as friends. There are many reasons why I would enjoy that, but unfortunately there are at least as many reasons why it would not be wise. I’m sorry.”

They waited a beat, until Fives realized that was _all_ she had to say. He tried not to grin as he nodded. “Honestly, I’m glad to hear it. No offense, but I know I’m not the romantic ideal for anyone.” She picked up on something he was saying, or not saying, and he stepped back from control of his body. # _Talk._ #

# _Fiiiives! She just –_ #

# _TALK._ #

There was an increasingly awkward silence, then Anakin cleared his throat. “So. Uh. Where exactly do I fit in to that?”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

# _Oh Force what do I do?_ #

# _Talk!_ #

# _Not helping!_ # Anakin gave her the slightly doofy smile that Fives had certainly noticed Padmé seemed to respond well to. “What you two just talked about, that’s between you and Fives. But you made sure to address him. So does that opinion cover me, too?”

She flushed a little. “Ani, I don’t – I mean – I was under the impression that Jedi didn’t tend to–” Padmé stopped and blinked. “Fives just said romantic. I didn’t. Wait, what’s going on?”

“I. Um. Do like you. Romantically.”

Fives was very proud that Anakin didn’t toss in some kind of “I think,” too.

Padmé kept staring. “Oh,” she finally said. “I – I don’t know. I don’t know what to say.” She looked away, still a little flushed. “Anakin, Jedi stay _out_ of politics.”

 _#And politicians_ ,# Fives added, so quickly that it probably was unintentional.

Anakin’s urge to both strangle his host and die of mortification came through loud and clear.

“I know.”

“And I can’t _afford_ any kind of scandal, and getting into – gods, what _does_ Fives think of – I mean how would this even work?”

“You – you think it could work?”

“I didn’t say that!”

Fives retook control and leaned forward before the two got entirely out of hand. “Look. I’m not a romantic partner, and I’m not interested in that. If Ani wants to go out and romance someone, I don’t mind being along for the ride, especially when the other person is a friend – someone I do like and care about. But anything romantic between you two? That’s something _you_ need to work out, and if my hosting of Ani is too big a hurdle, we’ll all need to discuss that at some point.”

She looked at them for a long moment, then nodded. “I see. I think...I need time to think on this.”

Anakin was the one standing up and giving her a bow, Jedi to respected individual. “Of course. I’m sorry we sprang this on you.”

Padmé had a wry smile for them as she stood and returned the gesture. “It wasn’t a _complete_ surprise, but thank you.”

* * *

Fives was at first surprised, then relieved that life didn’t change very much. They seemed to spend a bit more time with Padmé, up to and including more lingering after meals and conversation with others, who got politely booted out. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but almost a year after the awkward Naboo Incident, they’d stayed at Padmé’s apartment. A long talk had culminated in a spirited discussion between the three of them about blaster preferences, then Ani had started to wax on about speeders.

Somehow, that had ended with Padmé curled up along their side, her head resting on their shoulder. Anakin froze, but Fives changed the subject, trying to be smooth but not so smooth as to put an arm around her no matter how much more comfortable that might have been.

He wasn’t hugely surprised that Anakin completely freaked out that night, once they were back in their quarters.

# _This is nuts. We can’t. We shouldn’t. Holy SHIT, Fives, what if she gets pregnant?_ #

# _I’ve had my shots, I know how to use a condom, I suspect she’s on –_ #

# _FIVES! This is important! I’m a JEDI and she’s a SENATOR._ #

He facepalmed. Yes, he’d gotten extensive lectures and a written scientific explanation about how an active host, with Jedi present, could really screw up potential kids. Something about how Jedi bred meant their DNA ended up mixed with their hosts, so the kid got the Jedi’s memories, but without any of the brakes that Jedi younglings normally had.

Fives had gotten the writeup, but that didn’t mean he understood half of it. He’d taken away the important part: use damn birth control – multiple forms – and don’t fuck when Ani was in his head if there was a chance for kids.

As for Padmé being a senator, well, being discreet wasn’t the end of the world. She was still young for being a senator to an entire sector, only in her thirties, so discretion was understandable. She was well liked in her home system, but she was more than smart enough to not depend too much on the fickleness of popularity.

# _We can do this._ # Fives took a deep breath and sat up. “Seriously, Ani. You’re interested in her, I think she’s interested in you, and I’m happy to facilitate whatever. Panicking isn’t going to help anyone.”

Silence for a long, long moment. # _Do you really think she knows the difference between you and me?_ # Anakin sounded so hesitant, more unsure of himself than Fives had ever heard. The emotional swirl that accompanied the question hit hard, a mixture of Anakin’s shame at his own doubt, love for Fives, hope and fear and who knew what else.

At times like this, Fives desperately wished that Ani had picked up Obi-Wan’s bad habit of wandering around outside his host. There were times when he just wanted to give the idiot a hug. “Yeah, I think she does.” He grinned. “And I’m pretty sure she thinks you’re adorable.”

Ani rolled his eyes. “Not helping!” he grumbled, but he was smiling at the same time.

* * *

Two more weeks of “does she like you or does she like me and what the hell are we even doing?” and Fives had had it. He’d talked Anakin into a plan that his Jedi grumbled was crazy, but Fives could feel that Anakin had latched on to it almost immediately. They tried to do it right; romance like Fives thought he knew from the holos, and with Anakin adding cute little touches – they hoped – all on his own. They got help from Padmé’s droid Threepio, who was delighted to assist.

Padmé had been a little less delighted to drag herself into her apartments after what looked like a hell of a day with the Senate to find that Anakin and Fives had set up a private little dinner for them. At least by the end of the meal she was looking pleased with the situation. Afterwards, Fives led her over to one of the smaller couches and carefully positioned himself to face her. Padmé picked up on something odd, her comfortable cheer sliding into quiet curiosity. Ani took control and met her eyes. “I wanted to make something clear. I like you a lot.” His grin was wry, but gentle. “I think we’ve both enjoyed tonight, and the last few months, and no matter what, I want you to know that I love you.” Anakin took a deep breath, and Fives sent him wordless support and affection. “And I think I need to make sure we both know – that we’re not pretending that I’m someone, some _thing_ that I’m not.”

It always felt strange, reaching up to let Anakin slide from his mouth to his hands. At least after all this time, Fives was no longer shocked at the dark color of his Jedi, the contrast of shimmering black coiling around his arm. They both watched Padmé closely. Fives tracked the widening of her eyes, the awed look of marveling wonder as she stared at Ani. The Jedi coiled up, fins fluttering nervously and tilting his head a bit to get a better view of Padme. Fives carefully set Anakin down on the sofa, and the young Jedi slithered down the cushions until he was near her. His body language was bashful, somehow both hopeful and cautious and just...so _Anakin_ that Fives had to fight to keep his hands in his lap. This was on them, now. Ani let out a quiet little chirrup, and Padmé’s expression melted. She didn’t insult either of them by cooing; but a sweet, gentle smile spread across her face as she reached out, offering her hand to the Jedi. Anakin squeaked something between surprise and delight as he coiled around her fingers.

Fives let out a tiny sigh of relief, slumping back against the sofa’s arm to grin like an idiot at the two. They were just so damn _adorable_ together, Padmé cuddling Ani close and tentatively stroking her fingertips along his fins.

“How long can you-” Padme started to ask, then stopped, realizing Anakin couldn’t communicate that level of information to her right now. She looked up at Fives instead. “How long can he be, ah, outside?”

“Well, he’s amphibious, so he’s going to need water or a host eventually, but he’s good for the evening.”

“I see,” Padme looked down at Anakin again. She whispered something to the Jedi, who paused, then chirped enthusiastically.

Fives wasn’t quite sure what to make of the fortifying breath Padmé took, and he was even more mystified as she stretched out a hand to him. The other hand cuddled Anakin close, and he seemed thrilled with whatever it was. Fives took the hand extended to him, then he blinked at Padmé’s smile.

“You know I enjoy your company too, right?” She tugged his hand, pulling him over to her side of the couch. Fives ended up nestled close, Padmé snuggled up against his arm and Anakin squirming over to wrap around both their near arms. Fives could feel the subtle play of muscle in Padme’s arm, the power so often hidden by her grace, and he grinned.

This close, there was no hiding  _his_  interest in this...whatever this was. Fives leaned in to kiss Padmé on the cheek, and when she blinked at him Fives gave her his brightest smile. “Good. I love you both, I’m glad you two seem to like each other whatever way it is that you do, and glad to be a part of this.”

Padmé blinked at him for a moment, then giggled. “Likewise.” She settled when she was curled up against his side with his arm wrapped around her. Fives had to wonder what she could tell from listening to his heartbeat like that. Ani churred reassuringly from his place curled around Padmé’s arm, which she had draped across Fives’ chest. He smiled, settling in and resting his cheek against her hair before letting his hand come up to gently stroke across Ani’s fins.

He had  _no_  idea what this was, but he liked it.


	3. The Wheel’s Kick and the Wind’s Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another day in the Senate - affairs, backstabbing, and political schmoozing. And then things get interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for The Clone Wars episode 122; [Hostage Crisis](http://www.starwars.com/tv-shows/clone-wars/hostage-crisis-episode-guide). You don't need to have seen it, but this chapter was heavily influenced by it, including retaining some dialogue.

Padmé shut down the data pad and leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath as she carefully massaged her temples. Too much time serving Naboo as Queen meant that even as a Senator, she was always precise enough to never smear any of her makeup.

Gods, though, it never seemed to help a stress headache.

Her aide Teckla knocked on the door then poked her head in. The more relaxed, natural smile meant this wasn’t another Senate crisis, which was at least something. “Jedi Skywalker and Host Fives are here. They’d like to see you?”

Padmé smiled back. Teckla might not be in on the secret of Padmé’s marriage, but it would take a very oblivious, very politically obtuse being to not see that Senator Amidala enjoyed the company of Jedi Skywalker and his host, and Padmé refused to employ idiots.

“How much time do I have free?”

“Twenty-five minutes, then Senator Chuchi is holding that budget meeting at Chancellor Palpatine’s request.”

Ah. Yes. _That_. Padmé’s headache returned. Five months of war, and the Chancellor was delegating like mad in an attempt to keep up with the many new responsibilities entailed with being the leader of an army, instead of the head of a Senate full of cantankerous planetary delegates. “Please let them in,” she said, trying to keep it earnest without sounding like she was begging for a reprieve.

Teckla smiled, quickly smothering it into a sober expression more appropriate to an aide. She ducked back out, and a moment later Fives strode in, swagger exaggerated by the white-and-blue full armor instead of dark tunics and robes with partial armor. She still wasn’t quite used to the difference, even if she did appreciate the view. The door shut quietly but firmly behind him, and his precise bearing relaxed into his more informal air.

“Senator,” he declared, coming around her desk and giving her a careful hug. It was a normal gesture, made awkward because he was still self-conscious about his bionic arm. It was hidden under the armor, and Padmé had made it clear that she thought they made it dashing. She was also certain that by the time the war mess was done, there’d be a lot more prosthetics around, anyway, so being uncomfortable with it was ridiculous.

None of that helped either Fives or Anakin be at ease with it.

Anakin took control as Fives stepped back from the hug, and he dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Senator,” he repeated, a silly grin on his face as he completed their little ritual.

She beamed back at them, standing to give them a kiss and hug. “To what do I owe the honor, General?”

Anakin flushed a little, then his eyes went brown and Fives rolled them a little. “There might be a little something that Anakin needs to tell you.”

Oh _dear_. “Does it have something to do with the last dinner party?” They had gotten in the habit of General Skywalker spending time with Senators via Padmé’s informal meals with various dignitaries. It was good for both the Jedi and the Senate to make sure both parties knew what the blazes was going on with the other. The meals also sometimes resulted in unexpected information coming Padme’s way, courtesy of Jedi intuition.

There was an awkward silence, then Fives heaved a sigh. “No, that’s not the problem.” He glanced at her, then rolled his eyes again. “Look,” he muttered in the half-aside he used when addressing Ani but didn’t want to cut her out of the conversation, “One of us needs to com in and make sure Rex hasn’t killed someone out of sheer frustration or been overrun by shinies, and one of us needs to have a _talk_. And if you even _try_ to suggest we swap jobs I’m going to drink caf for two weeks straight, and never even _look_ at a teabag.”

Padmé flushed and crossed her arms, giving both her idiots a look. She’d hosted Anakin before, and she didn’t mind it, but that was...well...a _private_ thing, and most certainly not something she should be doing at work. In the _Senate_. “Excuse me,” she said, not quite growling the words. “Did it occur to either of you that this might not be the most opportune time?”

From the chagrined look she got, they had probably figured this was important enough that she would find time. Out of what multidimensional space, she had no idea, but sometimes Anakin and Fives seemed far too well matched and far too shortsighted.

Anakin cleared his throat and gave her the shy, sheepish smile that worked too well, too often. “It really is important, and we only have a very, very short leave.” With a further apologetic look, he spoke to her mentally. # _It’s something that...really shouldn’t be out loud. And us just standing here like idiots–_ #

She held up a hand. # _Fine_ ,# she grumbled as loudly as she could in his direction. # _Only fifteen minutes._ #

He nodded and stepped closer, their eyes going to Fives’ brown. Padmé tried to stifle her curiosity over what could be this important. Were she a woman less secure with her admittedly bizarre life, she would have wondered if her husbands were having some kind of affair. As it was, she just wanted to get this whatever it was conveyed so she could go back to work. It was Anakin’s thing, so probably something sweet, possibly romantic –

“She’s _busy_ right now so- Senator!”

Padmé whipped around towards the door, then spun back to Fives who had Anakin partway out his mouth. Both looked stupefied and unsure what to do. _Hells_. Without Anakin hosted they couldn’t even communicate mind to mind, but they _were_ all three combat tried veterans. Padmé was already leaning forward and to the side as Fives grabbed her arm, pulling her close. It was the strangest damn kiss ever, as Fives dropped the supporting hand to clasp her shoulder, and Anakin slithered from his host into her. She couldn’t feel more than the bizarre movement of him passing over their lips, though he was radiating embarrassed hilarity, genuine concern, and enough sheepishness for all three of them.

The door to Padmé’s office hissed open, revealing a furious Teckla and an angry Bail Organa, who came to an abrupt halt. Fives pulled back, giving Padmé a polite bow of a nod. “Senator,” he murmured, just loud enough to be heard by Organa. “Thank you for turning me down so kindly.” He shot Organa a glare, the look of a man semi-publicly shamed, then stalked out. Fives kept his head high and back stiff with what looked like a genuine attempt to cover the pain of rejection. Padmé had to wonder how the hells the man could take a fall like this.

# _Hits him in the sense of humor,_ # Anakin said, the feel of him metaphorically squirming in sympathetic embarrassment conveying itself clearly. # _He’s not trying to keep his pride, he’s trying to keep from laughing like a loon._ #

“I– oh dear. Senator, I do apologize– ”

Padmé waved an imperious hand, silencing Bail’s stammered apology with the haughty disdain of the queen she had been. “You owe Host Fives an apology, Bail, not me. You and I both know the Naboo’s views on their elected officials, and a more casual relationship wouldn’t be fair to either myself or Host Fives, particularly in light of the war.”

Bail’s face smoothed into a polite mask of genuine apology. Sadly, he was one of the few friends she had considered confessing to. He thought the Naboo tradition was beyond absurd, of all its officials being “married to their work,” requiring them to retire should they take a spouse or even adopt children.

That wasn’t to say that the Naboo political corps didn’t have an extensive collection of lovers, hired sex partners, and illegitimate children, but it was seriously frowned upon and even a hint of it had cost people their careers. Thus only a handful of well-trusted friends and family knew that Padmé was married, never mind to whom!

She smoothed down the front of her dress and raised a brow at her fellow Senator. “And what was so damned important anyway?”

Bail was a lifelong politician, like herself. He regained his composure just as quickly, and he got that stubborn-jawed look of burning outrage. “The new budget. Have you seen it?”

# _Dear gods. Remind me to not murder that man?_ #

# _Padmé, don’t murder that man,_ # Anakin said, dry and somehow both amused and annoyed. # _He IS your friend._ #

Padmé came out from behind her desk. It was clear that Bail wasn’t going to let this out of his teeth until he’d vented. # _I’m sorry, Ani, your news might have to wait for the ten I have after the budget meeting._ # There never was much slack in the Senate’s schedule – at least, not for any of the _good_ senators – so Bail’s usual preference with his chosen victim was to walk and talk. “I looked it over, but nothing seemed amiss.”

# _So long as I don’t have to pay attention to it..._ # Anakin’s joke was weak, the amusement watered down with something she couldn’t make out.

“Of course it didn’t.” Bail made a face before pulling out a data pad and angrily punching the keys. “On the face of it, things look a little pricy but acceptable – and it’s not like there’s been a war fought in generations, so who knows what any of this is supposed to cost?”

“But?” she asked, stalking out of her office and nodding at Teckla. Bail passed her the data pad, with a spreadsheet tracking some ludicrously high numbers across it.

“But look at what happens after the five year mark. You have to dig to find some of the clauses, but if debts are not paid off in full, then suddenly the interest rates are through the roof. Presuming we have even an ordinary budget, if this war lasts even as much as a year the entire Republic could be beggared and owned by the Banking Clans within four more.”

Padmé’s steps slowed. She’d run the numbers quickly when she’d gone through the notes, yet she’d seen nothing about this sort of travesty. “Show me.”

Bail reached over and swapped programs. The terms of the proposed budget popped up, with the relevant sections nicely highlighted.

“...dear gods.” Padmé stopped, then gaped up at him. “I thought this was all just the usual ass-covering, not–”

“I know!” Bail ran a hand through his hair, and for the first time Padmé noticed how absolutely awful he looked. “I swear, if I hadn’t gone looking for a surefire cure to insomnia, I wouldn’t have noticed it either!” He blinked and grinned at her, wry and sharp. “And thank you, by the way, for being the first person to not immediately get offended and demand why I’m so treasonous as to think this little rebellion won’t be squashed in a week or two.”

She couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “The Jedi are quite capable, but they are hardly gods. It’s pretty clear that the Separatists have been building up to this for years.”

# _We still might take them._ #

# _Yes, dear, but I intend to plan for the worst if that’s all right by you._ # “And Bail? When _is_ the last time you got some decent sleep?”

He flapped a hand at her. “I’ll be fine. This is far more important.”

“Try telling your wife that.”

“Where do you think I learned half my vices?” He gave her that very roguish, Alderaanian grin before waving her into Senator’s Chuchi’s office. The Pantoran contingent had historically rated a larger suite, so they were often included on various committees that wanted to use those offices for meetings. The savvy young Riyo Chuchi had been using that to her advantage from the moment she took office, getting involved with all sorts of groups and making many unconventional alliances.

Naboo firmly supported clever young Senators who went looking to use their resources to the best of their abilities, and Padmé genuinely liked Riyo.

She nudged Bail. “Go. Circulate. I’ll prepare ears.”

She could swear she heard a faint sigh from Anakin, but there was no comment, so either she’d imagined it, or Anakin understood how important this was.

Unfortunately, many of her fellow Senators did not. By the time the meeting started, Padmé was more than ready to question the sanity of many of her peers.

By the time the bounty hunters burst down the door, she was tempted to shoot most of said peers herself.

The leader, a blue-skinned Duros, fired a shot into the ceiling, glaring around as most of the assembled politicians screamed and ducked. “Morning, Senators,” the man drawled, adjusting a large-brimmed hat down over his red eyes. “You should all consider yourselves to be in my power. As long as everybody behaves, this will be quick and painless. Do nothing, and it will all be over soon.”

# _There’s only six of them! We’ve got this!_ #

Padmé glared at the bounty hunters circulating and taking comlinks. # _Anakin, no._ _There’s only one of us, I’m not Fives, there’s a LOT of hostages, and we don’t have blasters OR your lightsaber._ #

# _The Force–_ #

# _Might not be enough to get everyone out of here alive._ #

The hum of the power going down silenced everyone. Emergency lights blinked on, and Padmé tensed. This might well be an opportunity–

“Well hello there, little lady.” Padmé turned to glare at the lead bounty hunter. He smirked just a bit at the look and caught her by the chin, tilting her head to the side. “Ain’t you awful young and pretty for a Senator?”

Anakin’s snarl of outrage thankfully remained internal. # _Aren’t you awful STUPID for a bounty hunter?_ #

# _Anakin. Not now._ # Her Jedi might run hot, but Padmé preferred a colder fury. While she saw the reasoning behind the rules declaring the Senate off limits to weapons other than those carried by Jedi and Senate guards, this was but one more time when she regretted not smuggling in something beyond a set of vibroblades – which remained in her office. She lifted her chin rather than jerking it out of the Duros’ grip. “I am Padmé Amidala, Senator for Naboo and the Chommell sector, and I demand that you release us immediately. The Galactic Senate will not treat with terrorists.”

He snorted. “Bounty hunter, not terrorist.”

She crossed her arms, pretending to ignore how the other bounty hunters tensed. “Hard to tell, from this side of all those blasters.”

The Duros chuckled, bowing low in a mocking salute. “Cad Bane. I’d say at your service, but I doubt you could afford my fees.”

She glared right back. “I doubt you could afford my ethics.”

Bane just chuckled again, turning away dismissively. Padmé waited until his back was solidly to her, and the rest of the bounty hunters looked bored. Then she swiped a hand along her jaw, gratified that there was no tremor to still. # _I cannot wait to see that trash locked up somewhere unpleasant._ #

# _You and me both,_ # Anakin growled.

* * *

Fives blinked as the holo-call to Rex flickered, then went out. “The hells?” he muttered. A moment later the lights flickered into dim emergency lighting, and Fives’ stomach sank. He could hear the ominous thunking of security doors slamming shut throughout the building, along with what sounded like blast screens slotting into place. _Please tell me Coruscant didn’t just get attacked!_ He tried to reach out with his senses, only to scowl in frustration as Anakin’s absence made itself evident.

A few quick taps to his com, and he was even more alarmed. _Com’s blocked. Building’s shut down. What the hells?_ He’d turned to leave when his com crackled, a shaking voice coming through in spite of interference.

“This is Chancellor Palpatine. There has been an emergency at the Senate building. Is anyone there? Can anyone hear this?”

 _Oooh, no_. Fives gaped down at his vambrace. The Chancellor had the ability to broadcast a call throughout the Senate, but that was mostly for ‘hey emergency vote needed for some important shit,’ not–

He shook it off, raising his gauntlet. “Host Fives, sir. What can I do for you?” This was the Supreme Commander of the GAR. Hells, yes, he was reporting in.

“Oh, thank goodness. Some bounty hunters have taken hostages and closed down the East Wing of the Senate. They seem to be in control of the power. You need to get to the main control room and turn off the security locks, or take out all the bounty hunters.”

Fives stared at his com. _If this is a dream, I want to wake up right the hell now before Grievous shows up in a top hat challenging me to a_ _n_ _eating contest._ Normally, if he was thinking something like that, with that much lucidity, Anakin _would_ wake him.

No such luck. He muttered an acknowledgement and cut the com. Fives felt like he was in a bad holodrama – he was the only Jedi in the building, except he was without his Jedi partner, who just happened to be with their _spouse_ in, of course, the East Wing.

Knowing Padmé and Anakin, they would be right at the heart of the mess.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, measured and deliberate in a way no senator would move. Fives cursed and ducked out the door, sneaking as quietly as he could down the corridor. Someone had to save their asses, and it looked like he’d gotten elected.

* * *

A missing set of patrolling bounty hunters put all the rest on edge. The politicians were herded closer together in the center of the room, and a disgruntled Senator Philo had been shot for resisting. Padmé and Anakin were watching closely for opportunities, while Bail and Riyo were both working to see to Philo and keep the others calm.

The next set of bounty hunters came back with Fives, though probably not the way Bane had intended. The clone sprinted past the room, and Padmé winced at the sound of a body – moving at high but still human speeds, and thankfully protected in full armor – hitting and rebounding from a wall.

# _Intentional,_ # Anakin said, on full alert, the Force humming through him. # _Here he comes._ # Then there was a burst of emotion from Anakin, an urgent, wordless plea, and Padmé willingly stepped back to let him take control.

Fives hauled ass to the door, skidding to an awkward stop. Then to Padme’s astonishment, he flung out his lightsaber, hand still extended as if he were able to Force lift it over to them.

 _Oh!_ She understood as Anakin reached out, the weapon speeding out of its arc to slap into their palm. Out in the hallway, Fives had pulled a small hold-out blaster and was of all the damn fool things charging at the set of bounty hunters after him.

In the meantime, Padmé found her hands gripping the unfamiliar weight of the lightsaber, flicking the power on and spinning in a sharp turn. The blade sizzled as it chopped through Cad Bane’s raised gun, and Padmé snarled.

She had been Queen of Naboo. The Queen was not some pretty figurehead, and she had been raised and trained with a group of some of the deadliest body doubles and friends that any teenage ruler could have. She might not have ever held a lightsaber before, but she did know how to use weapons.

Anakin lent her speed and power, but it was Padmé who brought the lightsaber around, a neat little return blow that lopped through Cad Bane’s arm above the elbow even as he was reaching for explosives on his belt. A quick shove – without the Force – sent the howling Duros into the woman with the sniper’s rifle that Anakin had been eyeing suspiciously from the first. Those two were out of the fight for the moment, which was the important thing.

She _knew_ her stance was all wrong as she spun to face the last of the bounty hunters. The Weequay glared at her over a blaster, then he collapsed with a neat blaster hole through the forehead. Padmé glared at the doorway, where Fives had a hand to a wounded shoulder, but he was holding a smoking blaster and grinning.

“I’d say thanks for the distraction, Senator, but it looks like you were doing just fine without me.”

* * *

Padmé slumped down on the sofa in her office, beyond gratified that Teckla had been able to swing a clear afternoon for her. Fives was very carefully perched next to her, sling and bacta patch keeping his arm immobilized. They had survived the medics, a thorough questioning by Chancellor Palpatine, and the joy of seeing Judicial carting off a glowering, one armed Cad Bane. Somehow, Padme and Fives managed to hoodwink everyone into thinking Anakin was still within his usual host, and Padmé was just lucky.

She wanted nothing more than a long soak in an actual bath, with the potential for both her idiots being there with her.

# _We really have to talk first._ #

Padmé bit back a groan. # _Can’t it wait, Ani?_ #

# _Nope, not getting any less pregnant here._ #

She sat upright with a squawk. # _I most certainly am not pregnant!_ #

# _Not you, me!_ #

She had never, in her entire life, almost choked on her own spit. It was not a sensation she enjoyed or hoped to repeat.

Fives took one look at her before dropping his face into his hand. “He didn’t say anything before now, huh?”

# _We were busy!_ #

Fives sighed and gave Padmé a sympathetic look. “At least he didn’t tell you in the mess hall. During lunch.”

# _I was nervous!_ #

“I was picking bread out of my nose for the rest of the _day_!”

# _Well, maybe now you know why I was nervous!_ #

Padmé shook her head. “ _How_ – Just– ” She took a deep breath in the vain hope it would calm her down. # _Anakin Skywalker, explain yourself right now! I thought only Jedi queens could reproduce!_ #

# _Uhm. Yeah._ #

Her jaw dropped. # _You’re a QUEEN? And you didn’t think to mention this?_ #

She got the vague impression of crossed arms and something she could only think of as vague sulking, probably driven by discomfort or fear. # _It’s an annoying biology thing, and it’s not like it’s relevant to our relationship at all._ #

# _Anakin! This conversation means it rather is!_ #

# _Padmé…_ #

Probably after some conversation she wasn’t privy to, Fives set a hand on her knee. # _Queens aren’t really field Jedi,_ # he sent, Anakin using the Force to convey the words. # _Ani’s a bit of an odd duck. Since he’s from the wild, and with his background, the Council’s happy with him not spawning, but that wouldn’t change the preconceptions and expectations from, well, pretty much everyone. It’s something we keep on the lowdown a lot._ #

She glared. # _So he wanted to go off and play soldier, and to make your lives easier you decided not to mention any of this to YOUR WIFE?_ # It was unfair, and she knew it, but this was...not what she had thought they would ever, _ever_ be talking about.

# _Fives and I ARE a good working team, and the war does need us.#_ Anakin said with a defensive air, but then went from prickly to melancholy _. #Padmé, I don’t have any genetic memory. Even if I was inclined to be a breeding queen, I’m not even forty yet. It’s not really fair to the younglings if all I can pass on is my own limited and sometimes strange skillsets. Swearing in Huttese is probably not going to get you very far in the crèche._ #

# _...So what happened?_ #

Now there was sheepishness, that counter to the endless cockiness he could have. # _Um. Well. There HAS been a war going on._ #

Oh for – She looked over at Fives, who sat with his head tilted for a moment. Then he rolled his eyes. # _Someone might have missed the start of a cycle. By the time he caught it, the best option was to limit the number of kids instead of trying to tell his system to not produce babies._ #

Padmé groaned and slumped back against the sofa. # _Limit meaning what?_ # She hoped that she wasn’t leaking too much irritation. This – this had happened. They had to deal with it. They could do this.

# _Twins_.# Anakin sounded strangely happy, though still subdued. # _So that takes us to the other reason I really wanted to do this today. I’d...like it if they could share some of your knowledge? I mean, you and politics are amazing, and Fives and I don’t know much about it at all, and you have all the fun dirty fighting tricks and–_ #

# _Anakin!_ # Padmé tried to keep the wail of frustration to her own private corners of her mind, rather than screaming it at him. # _How am I supposed to handle twins – Jedi or otherwise! – while the two of you are off fighting a damned war?_ # The unspoken ‘and why are you so calm about this, there is _nothing_ to be calm about!’ probably made it across as well.

Anakin sent a sensation of apology and a hug. It was always strange to her, how when he did that, he always seemed big. Bigger than her, bigger than Fives – she had never been able to figure out if it was due to his strength in the Force, or if it had something to do with his understandable, near-desperate drive to protect those important to him.

# _Padme, bounty hunters just tried to take over the Senate. Tell me that would’ve happened five, ten years ago. This war is getting out of control, the whole GALAXY is getting out of control._ # He hesitated, and she could feel a tumble of conflicting emotions flickering through him. # _The kids can be raised in the crèche, completely or partially, or whatever. Mom...doesn’t know yet, but if you’re ok with us telling her I’m sure she’ll be happy to help. If you don’t want the risk, then they can be raised in the crèche exclusively. I grew up alone, Padmé. I want my kids to have friends, to be exposed to as much as they want. I don’t want them to ever have to be alone._ #

She scrubbed her hands over her face, gratified for the feel of the hug, and the more present sensation of Fives snuggling up next to her in silent support. # _There’s more to that, though, isn’t there._ #

He hesitated for a moment before answering. # _We already lost an arm. We’re five months into this war, and the Seps show no sign of stopping. And let’s face it, if – if Fives or I go down, the other is most likely going to be doing the same._ # Oh. Oh, she understood now, and she let her idiot spouse feel the sorrow, love, and frustrated regret that this was their lives. # _I don’t want YOU to be alone, either. We could die tomorrow – hell, YOU almost died today. I want –_ # She could feel him grappling for words. # _I don’t want the memory of us to be all that’s left, some view from the outside that never really understood. I swear I didn’t miss the cycle intentionally, but now that this has happened..._ #

Padmé nodded, curling close to Fives and clinging to him. From the stiff way he held her, she could tell that Anakin was leaking his emotions to them both. Intentional or not, she wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter.

Living two centuries was not unheard of for a human. Hosts could expect at least double that, should they survive their time in the field. Jedi regularly lived to be over a thousand. The irony that Anakin was so strongly concerned about his lifespan – and the impact on them should it be cut short – was not lost upon Padmé. # _We’ll get through this,_ # she whispered, glad that Anakin made sure Fives heard from the way the clone pulled her closer. # _Optimistic views of the war or not, we WILL get through this._ # She made herself grin, letting her Jedi feel the wry humor and certainty that they’d make it through, now that the shock was wearing off. # _After all, there’s going to be kids to watch grow up, right? You two BETTER be here for that._ #

Fives grinned and kissed her on the nose. # _You better believe it._ #

Anakin sent her another mental hug, which she returned. # _So,_ # she sent, after a while of cuddling. # _I don’t think I know how long Jedi pregnancies last. When are they due?_ #

# _About a week._ #

Padmé froze, then facepalmed. # _This better not happen again, but if it does so help me GIVE ME MORE WARNING!_ #

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been brought to you by the gleeful assistance and cackling of Flamethrower, who helped finagle details and plot. THANK YOU!


	4. All I Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skywalker family domestic fluff.

Shmi glanced around as a familiar Force presence brushed against her mind, gentle playfulness mixed with a touch of glee. She blinked and looked up from the plate of protein flakes she was shaking into one of the smaller pools, then she broke into a smile. “I didn’t know you had leave!”

Fives gave her that huge grin of his before sweeping her into a huge hug. “Trench was sneaky, and we had to return for munitions refill and Yularen was setting up a stink about the Resolute getting shot up again. So we’re a week in port for repairs, and Foerost isn’t that far away.” The hug changed in the middle, and Anakin pulled away before kissing her on the cheek.

“Are you going to be free tomorrow?”

“I’ve the morning shift, but that means I’ll be free in the afternoon.” She laughed as her son pulled a face. “Some of us like mornings, dear.”

“I do!” he protested. “I just like them better asleep, in bed!”

“Mm.” Shmi couldn’t stop grinning though, as she reached up and tousled his hair. Fives ducked away, yelping and mock swatting at her hand. “So are you here for the twins, and does Padmé know?”

Anakin retook control. “Yes, and we commed her apartments and office. Teckla said that she’d had a day, so she’s probably blowing off steam.”

 _Blowing something up on the range, or beating the stuffing out of some poor dummy at the gym._ Shmi nodded. “Well, give her my regards, and as always she’s invited to visit along with you.”

Anakin grinned and kissed her again. “You’re the best. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

* * *

Ani turned and scampered over to the few small carry tanks that the crèche offered – mostly at Mom’s insistence, but thankfully before the twins had happened, so it wasn't even nepotism or anything.

# _One of these days, you’re going to have to find a better turn of phrase than ‘when the twins happened.’ Preferably before the kids are more verbal._ #

He ignored Fives with extreme dignity, crouching down next to one of the larger pools that had an awful lot of toys and complicated structures in it. A few younglings could be seen playing chase and hide, or moving geometric playing blocks around. He sent out a gentle, directed mental touch, and a moment later two younglings careened out of what he thought might be a recreation of a shuttle hanger.

Leia was in the front, a slightly slimmer pale form than Luke – who Anakin could feel was in the mood to let his sister win. They twined around the hand he dipped in the pool, squeaking greetings and exuding glee and delight at his presence. There was also playful demand – especially from Leia – as he radiated happiness and welcome at them.

# _All right, all right!_ # he snickered, opening the travel tank and dipping it in the pool. The twins darted in, squeaking gleefully as they spun in circles around each other exuding “yay!” and “travel! Go!” at him.

It took a few minutes to get them out of the pool, since two other younglings, Gungi and Katoonie, if Anakin remembered right, noticed and wanted to go along with the twins. Anakin managed to block Katoonie, but Gungi sped into the tank and wouldn’t leave until one of the other crèche attendants – a hosted Jedi – helped lift him out and used the Force to keep him there. Ani closed the lid and reached out to carefully pat the drooping, pouting youngling, as well as the one doing forlorn circles in the pool.

# _Sorry, little ones. Family time tonight. I’ll ask Shmi tomorrow if she can arrange another_ _field trip_ _._ # Katoonie squeaked happily. Gungi heaved a melodramatic sigh, but he leaned into the scritches anyways. After a little bit, the twins went from pressed close to the transparisteel side of the tank to squeaking teeny demands to go home, _now_ please. Ani gave one more scritch, waving as the attendant grinned and lowered Gungi back into the pool to rejoin his crèche-mates.

The twins engaged in their usual, wide-eyed routine of wanting to see _everything_ as they drove to Padmé’s apartment, spinning in circles within the container. They gave off delighted glee at the night driving on Coruscant, full of lights and movement and noise. Ani had to laugh as Fives sent the same sort of contented joy at him, quietly egging him on to go faster because the twins _did_ love it.

* * *

Padmé had the good exhaustion riding her shoulders as she palmed open the door to her apartment. It was late, but she’d gotten to blow off a lot of steam first on the sparring floor, then the blaster range. She’d only been a bit rusty on the former, and the ability to make hardened security types watch her in awe at the latter always left her feeling good.

She came to a puzzled halt at laughter in the apartment that wasn’t C-3PO. Music that she’d thought had been wafting up from one of the other apartments kept playing, and she could hear the quiet murmur of familiar voices. Padmé broke into a grin as she rounded the corner, putting her blaster back into its holster. Fives looked up from something he was frying at the heating unit, still laughing. Artoo twirled around, and Anakin – riding on top – gave a ‘weh’ and waggled his fins in welcome as he twisted to try and keep her in view. The twins were in the expansive water feature she’d installed shortly after they’d been born, pressed up against one of the transparisteel windows and squeaking along somewhat in time to the music.

“You’re home!” Fives grinned and swiped his hands clear on a towel, tossing it over his shoulder as he scampered across the room. He snagged Anakin on the way over, Artoo blatting something cheerfully insolent that made Anakin twist with amusement as his host draped the Jedi across his shoulders as well.

“Well hello to you too,” Padmé giggled as Fives leaned in, giving her a kiss on one cheek as Anakin moved to nuzzle her on the other. “What are you doing here?”

“The five-oh-one got a quick leave, so while most of the men are sampling the joys of Foerost, we commandeered the Twilight. So sad, she needs a bit of a retrofit too, but we didn’t find that out till we were on Coruscant proper. We’ll be here for almost a week!” Fives gave her that cheeky smile. Anakin did a half-hop, half-slither from Fives’ shoulders to Padmé’s, and Fives went back to whatever it was that was cooking. It was sending tantalizing aromas across the apartment, and Padme shook her head as she went over to the pool.

“Tonight was the only spare time I’ve got in my schedule for most of that.” Anakin nuzzled against her cheek again, and she could feel love, acceptance, and support through the contact.

Fives nodded. “Teckla told us, which is why we have dinner and entertainment.”

She bit back the automatic, flirtatious question that popped into her head, instead dipping her hand into the pool. The twins were instantly swirling around her fingers, the nearly articulate sense of “Mommy’s home!” accompanied by squeaks. Padmé laughed as she rotated her hand, the twins treating the movement as if she were altering an obstacle course for them to twine about. When she had her hand palm up, Luke sprawled across her palm, wrapping his tail around her littlest finger. Leia circled her wrist like a gleeful, bright-eyed bracelet that could not stop moving

“Well you were busy. Yes, hello!” Padmé giggled and tickled Luke along the sides, scritching a finger along his tummy. “Did your Uncle Obi-Wan send gifts? Did Uncle 17 send grumbles? Have you been well behaved?” Leia slipped away from her wrist to butt lightly against Luke, squeaking what had to be “my turn!” Padmé obligingly put her other hand in the water, smiling wide as Leia squealed gleefully and zipped over for play scritches.

“They were well behaved, yes, but Gungi and Katoonie want to visit again.”

“ _Another_ playdate?”

Fives blinked, pausing the vigorous...thing he was doing to the food. Anakin twisted a little to give her an equally incredulous look. “That what they’re called now?” Fives shrugged. “Sure. We can tackle that while you’re at work, if you’d like.”

Padmé couldn’t stop a smile, tilting her head to nuzzle along Ani’s fins. “That would be a big help, actually.” She took the twins one or two afternoons a week, and she loved spending time with them, but playdates involved at least two more younglings and seemed to take at least three times the energy. She enjoyed having Jedi younglings romp around the twins’ pool, but it was sometimes hard to make all the schedules line up, too, since it was sometimes very last-minute, or she might get called to stay later on a day she thought she’d be home early. Shmi had been endlessly patient, but it still didn’t quite feel right to keep making her show up and keep track of all the younglings herself.

“Fantastic!” Of course Fives looked delighted at the opportunity. He didn’t just adore the twins; he had a fondness for younglings of all types and the Jedi’s more than most. “Food’s up!” He deftly plated up the food, bringing two trays over and settling next to her so they can sit next to the water feature while they ate. Ani slipped down Padmé’s arm into the water, chirruping at the twins so Padmé could get her hands free. Fives passed her a towel, then one of the trays.

“Thanks. There aren’t ration bars in here, are there?” she asked, teasing and gentle.

“Nah, that’s dessert.” He snuggled close, putting his bionic arm around her shoulders and somehow managing to keep his tray balanced as he ate. “Think you can stand us for almost a week?”

Padmé laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll get by somehow.”

It was glorious, her family all there at home, safe and well. She relished the warm glow inside, Fives next to her, the kids gleeful as Ani played some kind of racing game with them, and Artoo bickering quietly with Threepio in the background. She smiled and leaned in closer to Fives, basking in the feel of home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Alexiel_neesan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alexiel_neesan) was kind enough to do some [speculative art of Padme and her husbands!](http://alyyks.tumblr.com/post/131652196368) (Link takes you to tumblr, where you can find a larger version of the absolutely GORGEOUS art!)
> 
> [Gerbilfriend](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Gerbilfriend/pseuds/Gerbilfriend) also did art [of Artoo and Anakin! :D](https://gerbilfriend.deviantart.com/art/R2D2-and-Goa-uld-Anakin-729262822) (Link takes you to DeviantArt, where you can leave them comments if you'd like!)


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